object which might realize the expectations of La Tour. With this
intention, they passed up the narrow channel to the north of the
peninsula, in boats; and landing a portion of their men, attacked M.
d'Aulney in his intrenchments. The assault was so sudden and determined,
that every obstacle yielded to its impetuosity, and D'Aulney in vain
endeavored to rally his soldiers, who fled in confusion to the shelter
of the fort, leaving several of their number dead and wounded in the
trenches. Convinced, that it would be rashness to pursue, as the fort
was well manned, and capable of strong resistance, the young officers
drew off their men in good order, and returned to their vessels without
the loss of an individual. They remained in the bay of Penobscot for
several days, when, convinced that nothing more could be done at that
time, they thought it advisable to return to St. John's.

Night was closing in, as the vessels drew near the entrance of the
river; every sail was set, and a stiff breeze bore them swiftly onward.
A bright streak still lingered in the western horizon, and in the east,
a few stars began to glimmer through the hazy atmosphere. The
watch-lights of the fort at length broke cheerfully on the gloom, and
strongly contrasted with the dark line of forests, which frowned on the
opposite shore. The boding notes of the screech-owl, and the howling of
wild beasts, which came from their deep recesses, were silenced by the
animating strains of martial music, which enlivened the solitary scene.
They anchored before the walls, and the friendly signal of De Valette
was quickly answered by the sentinel on duty. With light footsteps the
young Frenchman sprang on shore, and followed by Arthur Stanhope,
passed the gateway, which led to the interior of the fort.

"Methinks the garrison have retired early to-night," said De Valette;
"there is scarcely a face to be seen, except a few long-favored